Call me, and I will be your happy ghost Call me, and cotton will come rolling out your mouth Call me, and we will build a family The cold, dark thing Didn't he die, in a lake In a pit or a plane or a place where he'd never get free from again? Didn't we push and shout And beat all the evil away into powder and medicine? Our future is looking bright as teeth Our future is looking bright as bedsheets I hear you: I've made a couple major tweaks I don't smoke now. I promise you that I will never die I heard you, calling me with feathers out your teeth The brown bird, the bright brown bird that broke the window Didn't she stop, with the sound With the coil of word on the tip of the tongue like a painted snake? Didn't she choke? didn't she swim? Didn't she drag herself out of the house and to just go dissolve again? Our future is looking good as throats Our future is looking good as clenching When we were married all my hair fell out When we were married